By Grace Maselli
I’ve moved. A lot. About 42 times in 64 years—all starting with my grandmother’s house on Silver Sands Road, a short walk from Long Island Sound in Connecticut where I was born.
Some moves were tied to my single teen mother’s vulnerabilities. Other moves in my 20s were defined by emotional uncertainties. Then, later that decade, my school in New York City. It was marriage and the start of a family in my late 30s and early 40s and a husband’s job trajectory that started the next series of beaucoup interstate relocations.
After decades away, I’m back now in New York State. First, there was the 2021 stint in New York City, Harlem, for four years, after leaving my beautiful timebank friends in Tampa Bay. Now I’m in the Catskill Mountains of New York’s storied Hudson Valley, about 20 minutes from Woodstock.
It’s occurred to me that if I do believe in reincarnation, I may have been a gypsy wanderer, unrooted, moving through towns in 1893 as part of a wheeled caravan with my own hotplate, wild and unapologetic. Never staying long enough to be claimed. I can only hope I lived that way once.
Fantasies aside, I have a little bit of wisdom about how to get connected to community when forced to start (again) from scratch. Keep in mind that in this latest New York go-round, my former husband is dead and my kids are grown and on their own.
So what does a lonewolf Baby Boomer without a caravan do?
Here’s a short list, a sampling only, of what’s helped me. It’s a quick list of some community and cultural activities, bookstores, and a bit more that could spark similar ideas for what to look for in your area:
- Of course, the local library is a trove of activities in my town, Kingston, NY: Writing courses, kite-making days, and “sketching your surroundings like a tourist—all Wednesday evenings in May. All levels accepted. Register early. Limited slots available.”
- Spiral Mirror (spiralmirror.com) is a metaphysical bookstore and educational center run by a husband-and-wife team about 10 minutes from my place; Spiral has classes and free community event evenings each month that have connected me to likeminded spiritual seekers, writers, and the generally curious. Plus they serve popcorn and seltzer with free, well-curated movies that have a “spiritual” bent.
- Tempo Performing Arts Center (tempokingston.org) is a new location with all kinds of music, dance, community singalongs that bills itself as “A Multipurpose Creative Space in Kingston, NY.” It’s in easy walking distance of my apartment and some of the events are (incredibly, reasonably) low-cost, so easier with a limited budget. Sure, I often go alone. But I’ve had good conversations with people and even joined a conga line once, my hands holding the waist of the stranger in front of me, as we grooved our way around the perimeter of the former church-turned-performance venue.
- Rough Draft Bar & Books (roughdraftny.com) Recently I grabbed a tea at Rough Draft with a new acquaintance from a Spiral Mirror course, “Writing with Spirit, Open New Channels of Communication”—my new friend and I chatted away with hibiscus tea and got to know each other better. This weekend, we’re going to a free dance event together at Kaatsbaan Cultural Park (kaatsbaan.org) in the little town of Tivoli, NY, for a “New Work Preview: Do It Yourself,” followed by a Q & A with the choreographer. Tivoli is about three miles from New York’s Bard College. Here’s what the website has to say: “Do It Yourself is a contemporary dance work in which the choreographer places a performer at the center of a turbulent identity discourse, examining how female identity is constructed, negotiated, and performed within Western culture.” Right up my alley, plus I get to know a new person a little bit better.
- The Nextdoor app (nexdoor.com). This hyperlocal social networking app has been invaluable. I’ve gotten information about nearby events, news, recommendations on everything from where to find a dentist to homemade pasta-making classes. I signed up for a Thursday evening walking group where I can even bring my two Yorkies, Melvis and Lexilu, assuming we don’t get yapped out of the group by my dogs’ collective anxiety.
? I live in what’s known as the “Rondout” section of Kingston. The Rondout “Creek” is a waterway across the street from my apartment door that is one nautical mile from the famed Hudson River. Right outside my door are fairs, festivals, Earth Day, road races, Italian and Irish day-long celebrations, and more that make for immediate parties. Often these events translate into impromptu conversations with strangers that feel nice when the sun’s out and a breeze is blowing. Here’s a quick historical background on the neighborhood: Rondout Creek helped create Kingston’s early growth by connecting the region’s natural resources to the Hudson River and major markets beyond. In the early 1800s, the Creek became the endpoint of the Delaware and Hudson Canal, which brought coal from Pennsylvania to ships heading to New York City. This steady flow of boats and goods turned the small waterfront village of Rondout into a busy port, creating jobs and attracting businesses. The Creek also made it easier to ship locally quarried bluestone and cement, materials used to build sidewalks, homes, and cities across the region, not the least of which was New York City. Together, canal traffic and water access made Rondout Creek a powerful engine in Kingston’s early economy.
So with all this, an important piece of subtext: Even on days when this Baby Boomer feels ambivalent or tempted to stay under the covers, I push myself to get moving and reach out anyway. I choose connection over retreat, action over isolation, even when my inner voice insists I can’t for whatever reason. On my best days, I go forward regardless—and each time I do, I’m reminded that showing up, however imperfectly, keeps me more connected, more engaged, and more fully alive.